The Astronomy Tower
by Reessees
Summary: Anything they had thought about the other before had become suppressed, pushed into the farthest reaches of their minds. No longer was it enemy, rival. They had found a new definition of each other that night: lover.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: All characters, settings, and all that belong to the godly JKR, and not me. But the plot is mine… yaddy yaddy yaddy, you get it.

Draco: What plot?

Reessees: Shut up! I hold your life in my hands!

Draco: Whatever, just get on with the story.

Reessees: Fine. If, at the end of this fic, you are confused in anyway, read the note thingy. Or review and ask questions. That's good too!

And now, ENJOY!

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_Some sick and twisted muse left me here_

_With the fate of my world sitting in my hands_

_Some sick and twisted goddess left me here_

_Sitting in the tear-splotched sand_

_Definitions set to pull us apart_

_Faerie tales set to give us a new start_

_But definitions don't define who we are_

_And faerie tales can't take us very far_

_So now I sit and pine for you_

_My mind yelling and cursing_

_My heart weeping and nursing_

_And not a bit of me knows what to do_

_The tower stands tall before me_

_The glint of silver so near_

_And suddenly I remember the tryst that was here_

_Sand, sun, and freedom_

_We made it our own_

_Shared memories close and dear_

_Turn it to our private island_

_Together or alone_

_How fitting it seemed now_

_To scatter sand across the floor_

_Like our make believe_

_It doesn't belong during war_

_So scatter I did_

_Along with tears and the letter you wrote me_

_And left a letter of my own_

_Before setting myself free_

_So now as I fade_

_I imagine you sitting in the sand_

_With nothing but my letter, not a chance_

_How does it feel to have your world taken from your hands?_

_I'll miss you._

_

* * *

_

_Some sick and twisted muse left me here_

_With the fate of my world sitting in my hands_

_Some sick and twisted goddess left me here_

_Sitting in the tear-splotched sand_

Draco Malfoy was heart broken.

But it was impossible, for a Malfoy to have their heart broken, for as far as anyone knew, Malfoy's didn't have a heart to break. And so Draco sat in the astronomy tower, bewildered by the tears that fell from his face, baffled by the tight feeling of emotional pain in his chest. So many thoughts were flashing through his head; it was hard to tell where anything ended. All Draco knew was where to begin. And as surprising as it may seem for a Malfoy to even know the phrase, Draco knew it quite well.

Once upon a time…

/Flashback/

"There was a nasty ferret who no one liked." Draco whipped around, knowing that voice anywhere. Immediately, emerald green eyes pierced his own silver orbs, and he saw no hate reflected there, but something entirely different. Something he might mistake for love.

"But one man stood away from the rest." Draco raised an eyebrow smoothly and stopped his pacing across the worn floor of the astronomy tower, acknowledging the raven haired teen and at the same time questioning where all of this was going.

"This man was ravishingly handsome, everything about him was awe-inspiring. From his sexily tousled black hair to his stunning green eyes, even down to his toenails. No one could get enough of him." Draco gave a stifled snort at the self-portrait that the smooth lips had painted of their owner.

"But our brave young man with the devilishly good looks had eyes for only one in the crowds of admirers. A ferret. Why a ferret you may ask?" Draco raised his other eyebrow in response, sending them high on his forehead as if to say 'Get on with it.'

"Because this ferret was beautiful." Draco waited. "What are you waiting for? The End." A loud sigh escaped the blonde's lips at his own anti-climactic description.

"Is that all?" the first three words from Draco's mouth all night were met with a sharp nod. "Then get your lazy, but _awe inspiring_, arse over here and kiss me."

Silver clashed with black as their lips met in a passionate kiss. Immediately, the smaller boy ran his tongue over the lips that had spoken such a twisted faerie tale to him earlier and bit down hard. He tasted copper as the lips he was currently crushing with his own opened in a gasp, and took a second to enjoy the taste before plunging his tongue into that warm, waiting mouth. The heady scent of cologne seeped around them, drifting in and out of his sensitive nose and filling his head with a muddled cloud of thoughts. In that moment, Draco was sure of only one thing. He positively _needed _the teen he had his arms wrapped around, his hands tangled in the hair and robes of. For lustful reasons of course.

Draco Malfoy needed Harry Potter.

/End flashback/

_Definitions set to pull us apart_

_Faerie tales set to give us a new start_

_But definitions don't define who we are_

_And faerie tales can't take us very far_

Harry remembered a particularly nasty fight they had. He had been sitting up against a tree by the lake near midnight, hoping for some peace and solace from the stars. It wasn't working though. He was giving into the melancholy cloud that had overcome him since that horrific day. All he saw was eyes. The empty blank eyes of those he'd never see light up again because of his horrible destiny. Emerald green, the no longer shining brown of a happy puppy, twinkling blue. He still had the honey brown of Hermione, and the darkened azure of Ron, but nothing could bring back the fire that had once resided in his own emerald orbs. Not when there was a matching pair in his mind that would never light up again, not to mention the countless others. And still, the final battle had yet to come. How was he ever to survive it without Sirius, without Dumbledore? This question had been plaguing him, asking him for answers he didn't have, and it didn't seem he would be finding tonight. He was just beginning to fall back into the haunting state of numbness that had brought him out here and let the angst become hidden again, when a platinum blonde teen had literally fallen into his lap (with the grace of a cat of course). The sudden contact knocked his knees with such force; he thought for sure they were broken.

"Malfoy!" he had snarled angrily, "what the hell are you doing here! It's the middle of the night for Merlin's sake!"

"I could ask you the same, Potter."

The blonde had just sat there, aristocratic features turned slightly upwards to view the heavens. Of course, Harry couldn't allow it, as much as he found himself enjoying the feel of the smaller boy between his legs. With a jerky movement, he rolled, sending them both spinning down towards the lake. Legs and arms tangled until they stopped in a heap, just inches from the shore. He felt a fist make contact with his face, so he drew back his own and landed it squarely in Malfoy's stomach. Suddenly there was a bombardment of kicking and yelling, insults hurtling through the air on the backs of fists. Again they were in motion, rolling the rest of the way into the shallow end of the icy lake.

"Potter! You're such a-" but whatever Malfoy had been about to say was silenced as Harry pressed their lips together in a mind blowing kiss. Everything became lost to the two teens as they struggled to remove soggy clothing, to feel that burning heat that came from each others skin. Anything they had thought about the other before had become suppressed, pushed into the farthest reaches of their minds. No longer was it enemy, rival. They had found a new definition of each other that night: lover.

And now he had gone and ruined it all.

_So now I sit and pine for you_

_My mind yelling and cursing_

_My heart weeping and nursing_

_And not a bit of me knows what to do_

If he were to be truly honest with himself, Draco would have to admit that he did indeed love Harry. He was so perfect in everyway, and yet he was simply _Harry. _But he couldn't be honest. Not when honesty brought him so much pain. Because to realize that he really did love Harry, and then to realize that Harry didn't love him --that in fact, Harry could care less-- just put another knife into the wound that had opened in his heart. So he wouldn't think about that fuzzy feeling he got when he was with Harry, that wonderful sensation that was the world and all its cares floating away from him. He wouldn't even stop to ponder why it was that his heart always fluttered when Harry was near, and that his stomach did flips to think of him. Instead he would focus on the physical aspect of Harry, because he knew that it was no use trying to not think of Harry at all. He'd focus on the lust that was there, because that was all that it was. Lust. Lust caused by the way Harry's lips were deliciously soft, the way his just-toned-enough chest would feel under Draco's hands. The way his emerald eyes danced with a fire that only Draco could seem to inspire in the once numb brunette, and Draco loved that. His slender hands, seemingly perfect even after doing such work with them; his raven colored locks which so begged to be fisted in a moment of love and rapture. He loved them too. Heck, he loved feature of Harry's body he could think of. He loved—oh, hell! There was that love word again! How many times had it used it now_? 8 times. 8 times! Fuck!_ Draco sighed, shaking his head. No use denying it.

He was in love with Harry bloody Potter, the fucking Boy-Who-Lived-To-Break-His-Heart.

_The tower stands tall before me_

_The glint of silver so near_

_And suddenly I remember the tryst that was here_

_Sand, sun, and freedom_

Said boy was currently sprinting through the halls, frantically searching for his silver haired lover. He didn't even have a semblance of a plan, he just knew that he would do anything to win back that feeling he got when he was in his arms.

That fluttering in his chest.

He wrenched open the door to their favorite classroom. Nothing. Damn it, not even the faint glimmer of his scent. Vanilla, and ginger root, and something else completely indefinable…

The clench in his stomach. He almost fell into the fountain at the front of their garden. They had found it together a month ago, and as far as he knew, it was Draco's favorite place. A place he could go where only Harry could find him, it was a secret from the school. It was just for them. But there wasn't even a hair of his resting in that beautifully delicate place.

The idea that everything was right with the world, and there was no Voldie McScalyarse to worry about, just them and now.

He pounded on the stone wall of the dungeon that was the Slytherin entrance until someone let him in, and ran right to Draco's room, not carrying about the shouts of angry Slytherins or what this could possibly do to the secrecy of their… whatever it was they had. He wasn't really sure anymore.

The feeling remarkably like love. Oh shit.

There was only once place left he could be. The astronomy tower. Oh. FUCK! He ran.

He was in love.

_We made it our own_

_Shared memories close and dear_

_Turned it into our private island_

_Together or alone_

Draco let the tears fall from his eyes now, unashamed. How could Harry do this to him? How could good, kind, heroic, foolish, lovely Harry shatter his heart into a million pieces? They had so many good times, learnt so much about each other talking late into the night. And if he didn't love him, he must have at least enjoyed all the time they spent doing other things. But that didn't seem at all to be the issue. It wasn't just some way to _relieve stress_ or something of that nature. Ugh, to put into context like that horrified Draco, and he was sure it would have horrified Harry too. Besides, there was too much evidence to the contrary. They didn't always get involved in passion. Sometimes they did homework, or had a snow fight or something like that, or even just talked. One time, they had even just lain close together on the roof, looking up at the stars. The closeness had been enough for him then, he didn't seem to need to mindlessly fuck then. It all just didn't make sense for all the time they had spent together, and of what he knew of Harry's character--which he was confident he knew like the back of his hand. But then again, how many times did he look at the back of his hand? But no, it just wasn't like Harry at all. And to just leave him here in this Godforsaken tower, where they had so many memories, so many happy things, now all ruined by his idiocy. It didn't make any sense.

And why the hell couldn't he have picked a better place, at least, to send his heart through a wood chipper?

_How fitting it seemed now_

_To scatter sand across the floor_

_Like our make believe_

_It doesn't belong during war_

He was breathing heavily, hardly knowing how he kept ruining. All the while, images were flashing through his mind. The astronomy tower. Draco. It was so vivid; it was almost as if someone had painted it into his mind with pure pigments. Draco was laughing at something he had said, they were sitting on the window seal of the astronomy tower with the slightly smaller boy sitting between his legs. He remembered the sound of that laugh, how wonderful it sounded to his ears, how fulfilling. He cherished those moments, even though he knew they didn't belong. After all, how could the Boy-Who-Lived and a Death Eaters son ever make it in the harsh and dangerous world Voldemort had created? That's what had motivated Harry to break things off with Draco before. To end whatever it was they had then, before anything bad could happen to the blonde boy—and especially before they could develop a lasting attachment-- was better, so much better. Nip it in the bud, as one might say. But he realized now that the growing plant of his love for Draco was already grown a mile high, and there was nothing he could do to chop it down. Only hold on for the ride up, and hope he came out of it with something gold. It was getting even harder to breath now, and more and more people seemed to be getting in his way. God, he was such an idiot! He had left that stupid note for Draco all the way up in the astronomy tower, and the blonde boy was probably still up there even now, reading it over and over, thinking of how Harry had betrayed him. It hurt his heart so bad to even think of it. He shoved them all away violently, willing his tired and wobbly legs to strain even farther, get him to Draco faster. Because getting to Draco seemed even more important now, like an aching feeling in the back of his mind. He was going to be too late.

But too late for what?

_So scatter I did_

_Along with tears and the letter you wrote me_

_And left a letter of my own_

_Before setting myself free_

Nothing seemed to be what it was before, but there was no changing the past and it would ultimately affect the future. Sitting up there for hours, waiting for Harry to come up and tell him what a horrible mistake he'd made, and how he didn't mean it, and that he loved him, Draco had come to realize that this statement was wholly true. It may have seemed to him that Harry loved him, but really he didn't because he couldn't, everything that had led them up to where they were was getting in the way. Knowing he could change it made a difference somehow, and Draco resolved not to let it continue to consume him. He stood up, with Harry's forgotten letter crumpled on the floor and cried a bit more, just because he couldn't help it. He then wiped away the tears furiously and went over to the window. He conjured some parchment and wrote the following:

_Harry,_

_It's hard to say what I feel, but I think you need to know. I understand, first of all, that you couldn't bear to see me again. You probably finally came to your senses and realized that going down this road at this time would kill us both. So it comes as no surprise that you would do the noble thing and shatter my heart into a million pieces, all small enough to fit through the eye of a needle. I completely agree that it's the best thing to do. I hope that you are happier in the future, and know that while I'll miss you always, I'll try to never think of you again. Just like you asked. I'll go off and marry some pureblood (probably Pansy) as well._

_Always yours,_

_Draco _

By the end, the parchment was tear-stained, the ink blurred in some places and almost unintelligible in others. He looked at it, and finding it not what he wanted it to be—it was too emotional, too bitter and sad—he tore it up and started again.

_Harry,_

_I understand. I'll miss you always. Be strong, Harry, and do what you're meant to do._

_Draco_

He looked at the much shorter letter, satisfied. With a few waves of his wand, the room was transformed, and it hurt his heart to see it. Another thought occurred to him and he added one more line with a slight smirk, and then made the climb onto the roof through the window, not quite sure what he wanted to do, but sure of his actions all the same.

_P.S. At least now you won't be distracted by the beautiful ferret you once met._

_So now as I fade_

_I imagine you sitting in the sand_

_With nothing but my letter, not a chance_

_How does it feel to have your world taken from your hands?_

He burst through the door of the astronomy tower and almost collapsed at the sight he saw. There was no one there. But even more surprising was the fact that there was sand everywhere, and the walls were enchanted to look like he was on an island. It was just as the two boys had imagined it one cold and snowy day, when they were shut up in the tower for the afternoon. And there, sitting in the middle of it all, was a scrap of parchment. He picked it up, and scanned it quickly before collapsing onto the floor, tears already starting in his eyes. He could smell Draco on the parchment, and he knew he was gone, maybe forever. The ink was even still wet… which meant he was close by! Harry looked up with new hope. He hadn't run into him on the run up the staircase to the tower, which must mean he was still here. But another look confirmed that the pale boy certainly wasn't in the room. Where else would he be?

_So now as I fade_

_I imagine you sitting in the sand_

_With nothing but my letter, not a chance_

_How does it feel to have your world taken from your hands?_

He was almost smirking as he thought of Harry's reaction to that final line, but it was just to hard to twist his face into the familiar mask. He was sitting on the edge of the roof, legs crossed, just thinking. His hair blew into his eyes, the wind mussing it, and he didn't care. No emotion was coming to him now that he had solidly broken it off with Harry. Damn Harry Potter, controlling everything from the rules, to the crowds, even his own emotions! He thought about throwing himself off the tower. But hell, it would be because of Harry, and he didn't want his actions controlled by him anymore. He was dealing with the fact that he couldn't control the raven haired teen, and that angered him enough, but to not have control over his _own_ actions because of him was infuriating. His heart was in the fury though, and that angered him as well, even if he could only barely feel it. There was probably some ward to stop wayward Hufflepuffs from jumping anyway. So instead he just sat and thought of Harry some more. He didn't notice the object of his thoughts pull himself up out of the window and sit next to him. He didn't even acknowledge him when he slid his tanned arm around his waist. In fact, it quite surprised him when Harry spoke.

"I'm sorry." There was so much emotion behind his voice; it tempted Draco to ravish him at that very moment, to make all that anger and melancholy go away. He was even tempted to forgive him.

"Too late Potter. It's too late." He had no idea what an affect those words were having on his heart. He only knew that he couldn't give in. He knew now—because Harry had brought it into the light for him to see—that they could only do harm to each other in this time and space. He could so easily be used against Harry, no to mention he would be killed by his over bearing excuse for a father. But he was more worried about Harry. So he let him think that it never meant anything to him, let him think that he was fine with the break up, let him think anything but the truth. And the truth was that he so badly wanted to be Harry's life. So he moved to get up, knowing that maybe someday, or in some latter time period, they'd be together. Until then, he would wait.

_I'll miss you._

* * *

Fin! To explain this to some degree, I blame it on my loopy emotional glands, node-thingies, whatever you call them. When I started this fic I was feeling kinda sqwonky (hence the twisted fairytale scene) and then I got bored and dropped it like a hot rock. But then I got all depressed because my cat might have cancer, so I took it this fic back up again. So what you see here is some of my randomness and all my depression channeled (more like shoved) into the HP-verse. It's really not meant to make any sense, just to get out all my angsty feelings on the subject of my poor kitty. But then I really kinda liked it, and it made sense to me at least, so here it is in the public eye! I switched POVs a lot, which I don't usually do. And I wrote a poem! In fact, my fingers are still itching and the words are rhyming, so I might go write a follow up to this… (it's supposed to be one-shot, but what the hey). 

XOXOXOXO,

Reessees


	2. Chapter 2

Harry sat right where Draco had left him for a very long time. Everything was finally clear to him. Draco was his life, and he was absolutely, undeniably, head-over-heels, crazy in love with him. And he was almost sure that Draco had felt the same way. That was what had called to him to break it off, even though not all of it had been that clear at the time. He knew that the pain would be too great if they got attached, and then oneof them died—as it was sure to happen, just being on friendly terms would cause them that danger. It was better to remain enemies than to become something more. Because that something more would surely break them.

But now that he had gone through it, and found out that Draco really didn't care… it hurt so bad. _It shouldn't hurt like this! Damn it, Draco…_ He began to cry, and started to sing…

_Your beautiful eyes,_

_Oh, they set me on fire,_

_Make me want to cry,_

_Make me feel alive._

_How could I say no?_

_Oh, I love you so,_

_But what am I supposed to do?_

_I know, oh it hurts me to know,_

_That we can never be,_

_Oh, how I wish that we could be,_

_But we can never be._

_So I'm asking you,_

_What's left for me,_

_But to face destiny?_

_You've left me here,_

_And I can't go on,_

_I can't be strong,_

_Cause you're gone,_

_Oh, I love you so,_

_But what am I supposed to do?_

_I know, and it hurts me to know,_

_That we can never be,_

_Oh, how I wish that we could be,_

_But we can never be._

_So I'm asking you,_

_Oh, love, what's left for me,_

_But to face destiny?_

_Alone_

_Oh love, don't leave me alone…_

It occurred to him, as he finished his mournful song, that he wasn't alone. Draco would always be with him, in his heart. He just knew that Draco would come back to him after this horrible war was over, and that he couldn't possibly hate him anymore. So he wouldn't go and try to find him, to win him back and keep him as long as his earth-bound time would allow, because he knew that even if one of them died, they'd find each other again.


End file.
